


Song of Eld

by melpomeni_mandy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drabble, Feels, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melpomeni_mandy/pseuds/melpomeni_mandy
Summary: In the warmth of the hearth Ser Aymeric listens to the Warrior of Light play music upon her harp...





	Song of Eld

A gentle snowfall graced Ishgard that evening as she strummed her fingers against the taunt harp strings, the fair and poignant notes that came from each pluck and pull filling the small parlor with a lovely melody. It was a song of eld, one of the few she still recalled from her childhood passed down from her mother, and from her mother’s mother, and onward back through the generations past when the highlander clans still warred with one another over the eastern mountains of Gyr Abania.

However, it was not a song of such conflicts or part of an epic tale for a great warrior and his travels across numerous lands both high and low. Instead, as the lyrics that flowed from her lips with the music that came forth from her hands, it was a song of love, of yearning and the passage of time. It was also one of the few she remembered her mother playing the most frequently as it soothed the ear as well as the heart; Ahlis fell asleep to it many a night as a child.

As the song came to an end and the last verse was sung her eyes, which were already half-lidded as she played, closed fully; herself still holding onto the emotion of the music in those first few moments of silence. It was so rare for her to play such music; it was one of the few remaining gifts from her mother that she managed to hold onto from years past.

“That was lovely, Ahlis,” came a voice from behind her, closer to the mantle of the hearth where a healthy fire crackled with life.

Her eyes opened then and she turned slightly in her seat as she heard him approach, a glass of wine in his hand. She looked up to Aymeric with a gentle look, her feelings of nostalgia not quite leaving her expression just yet.

“I’m, a bit rusty to be honest,” she spoke humbly but not without gratitude in her voice for the compliment. “If you knew how my mother sang…it does not compare.”

“Be that as it may, my friend, you put heart into your song,” Aymeric watched as she sat there before him as her hands gently pushed the harp back sit upright from leaning against her body. He saw the grace of her playing in each movement now, as if the harp held a kind of enchantment that somehow unfurled her inner self in the way she touched the strings to her hair that she pushed back behind an ear.

“Are there more? Your mother was an accomplished musician, was she not?” He asked her then, perhaps a touch too eagerly than he had wanted to. Ahlis blinked for a few moments before smiling, as if noting his interest.

“Aye, she was,” Ahlis replied, her voice soft with memory. She always remembered her mother fondly in those days; it hadn’t always been as such. The first few years after her death had been wrought with a pain she had done all in power to overcome.

Ahlis made a glance across the small room, the hands on the wall clock ticked by to an hour growing rather late. Aymeric himself wasn’t oblivious to the time either, that she couldn’t remain there too much longer lest it be deemed improper.

“You need not stay longer for my sake. Another night, perhaps.”

He smiled in understanding then, genuine in his offer for Ahlis to take her leave if she desired it. There would be other evenings such as this, together with her music and a pleasant fire nearby to enjoy along with it.

It was then that she looked at Aymeric, her eyes narrowed in a tender, perceptive sort of way. What could it hurt to remain a little longer? To play just one more song to sate his curiosity and appreciation for her talent?

“I think I have another up my sleeve, if it pleases you?” Ahlis offered, already knowing his answer.

“Aye…that it would.”

Aymeric eased himself into sitting by the fireside, closer this time to watch her play and content to observe her hands reach for the harp again to lay it upon her shoulder. She took a moment to place her fingers upon the strings, then another to smile briefly at him, and once more her song filled the small parlor, warm against the snow and the dark of the night.


End file.
